


Slice of life 2.0

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, cornyx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 06:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: What's a Glaive to a Marshal?The world, actually.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miriya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriya/gifts).



> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is property of Square Enix.** I just like to play in the sandpit they've created for the fans.
> 
> Behold! The place where I'll stick all my Cornyx ideas if I can't flesh them out into oneshots, and gifted to the friend who dragged me aboard this ship before I even realised it was a thing ;)

_Nyx..._

A grumble.

_Nyx..._

A mumble.

_Nyx!_

A muffled snort, rolling over and stubbornly jamming his face further into the pillow, cocooning himself in blankets.  He misses the huff of amusement just as he’s missed the thump of heavy boots being discarded, clothing set aside, the curse of walking into a table in the dark and bruising a knee.

Having ignored his three chances of a polite wake-up call, he comes around with a start, a shout of _outrage_ , when chilly fingers dart under the blankets and plant themselves on the back of his neck.

“Shiva’s icy frigid tits! _What the fucking fuck, Cor?”_

Nyx twists himself into a tangle in his effort to flatten himself against the wall, away from his attacker, and it’s no longer a huff but full blown laughter as Cor watches his frantic scramble and drops to the mattress as if the legs have been cut from under him.  Weary down to his _bones_ , but glad to be back in the city, in an apartment not his own, in a bed not as firm as he needs but prefers for the company that comes with it.

“You were in my spot.”

“You evil, twisted -”

_And I missed your voice._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: a couple of chapters comprising of single sentences, as per the 10 sentence meme over on my tumblr. Who knows... maybe I'll expand on them sometime :)

There is a predator lurking in that other place, Cor knows, a warning he’s given to countless others, there’s danger and _death_ in warping and he sees it firsthand, he _feels_ it, when Nyx falters in a mist of blue and embers, when those icy eyes go wide in panic and he throws his arms out in a silent plea for help and Cor grabs hold of him to keep him grounded - and pits his strength against the hidden _thing_ trying to claw the Glaive back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that rating? That _mature_ rating? It comes into play here with these AU ideas.

“Well aren’t _you_  a pretty little furball,” the assassin croons, unfazed by the clawed hands Cor clamps on hip and throat alike, squeezing in silent warning, and the kiss of metal on flesh is enough to draw his gaze away, to the ebony dagger dragging ever so lightly around his nipple.

* * *

Nyx has such a _pretty_ mouth, expressive and kissable and an absolute _delight_  when it’s open on a moan, a groan, a desperate _whine_ of his name as he arches and scratches and drops his head back to rest on Cor’s shoulder, oh so delicious under the stinging nips of sharp teeth where neck meets shoulder,  _“please”_  a breathless gasp to the heavens - and Cor shows mercy, slides his hand from chest to navel to cock and a single stroke is all it takes for Nyx to come apart in his arms and he _bites_ , hard enough to draw blood and take his fill, deep enough to leave a mark and claim the human as his.

* * *

He’s no stranger to Cor in various states of undress but there are no wounds to heal here, no daemons to kill, and his bed is not a battlefield so there’s time to falter in stride and swallow a curse and stare as Cor stretches and arches on the sheets with a low groan, one hand casually tucked behind his head and the other moving over his cock, eyes meeting Nyx’s and -  _“enjoying the show, Ulric”_ a husky taunt, a challenge - dear _gods_ he’s burning alive.


	4. Chapter 4

He doesn’t understand Cor’s insistence that they watch a cartoon movie to start with (and no amount of popcorn could apologise for being bodily _tossed_  onto the sofa when he wanted to _sleep_ , thank you very much), but then Cor pulls up a video on his phone to coincide with one particular scene and… well, Nyx honestly _loses his shit_  when he sees the late Queen silently screeching at her husband for holding their son aloft like some Coeurl cub on a clump of rocks.

* * *

Nyx lets out a noise that’s positively _lewd_ , so much so that several heads swivel around to look, almost snapping clean off necks as their companions watch scarred hands work at his shoulders, fingers digging and kneading and breaking up every stubborn ball of tension wound under his skin, relief chasing away the sickening lances of pain under a touch that’s all expertise and no magic, and Cor meets each stare with the barest hint of a smile and one solitary brow hiking towards his hairline.


	5. Chapter 5

“It wasn’t me, Cor, I’m right here,” what useless words, and yet there’s not much else he can say, not much else he can do except wait out Cor’s silence and be patient with the trembling touch, the need for _reassurance_ that he’s alive and well and not trussed up like a holiday ham from the rafters and riddled with Scourge and death.

* * *

_"One more step,”_ he says for every twenty, Cor an unsteady, uncoordinated weight pitching into his side every time his strength falters and wanes just a little bit more,  _“almost there”_ he says for every ten, then has to laugh when Cor drags in a raspy breath and threatens to deck him for being a fussing hen and yeah, they’re in a spot of trouble without any curative items, but they’ve dragged each other through worse, they’ll make it.


End file.
